


What Good Are Words

by dracoqueen22



Series: Play By Numbers [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe to Lost Light, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, post-MTMTE #57
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 10:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: A lot has happened in the past year. A lot can change. But the moment Rodimus reunites with Starscream, he’s relieved to know that this, at least, is the same.





	What Good Are Words

The hardest part was not throwing himself at Starscream like a starved mech the moment he laid his optics on the Seeker.  
  
Instead, Rodimus had to cloak himself in restraint, all the while fidgeting so hard that his armor clattered. The niceties were torture when all he wanted to do was get Starscream alone.  
  
It had been a year! A very stressful, terrifying and almost deadly year.  
  
Now Minimus wanted to drone, somehow worse without the armor of Ultra Magnus giving him the reason to pontificate. Megatron wanted to smirk and agitate, even with Terminus peering over his shoulder like some kind of good-cop, bad-cop routine. Windblade coolly disdained them all, and if Starscream was even half as agitated as Rodimus, he sure didn’t show it.  
  
Honestly, Rodimus didn’t fragging _care_. Couldn’t the reports and the summarizing wait? What was so slagging important anyhow?  
  
The closest Rodimus had ever come to kissing Ratchet was when the medic stormed through the impromptu meeting, scattering members of leadership like startled microbots. Ratchet glared at all of them and declared the meeting over, and he wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.  
  
No one argued. Not even Windblade, who’d stared at Ratchet as though he was a new construction of Cybertron that frightened her.  
  
Rodimus internally promised Ratchet whatever he wanted as thanks, before he stalked across the room, and snatched Starscream’s hand.  
  
“Come on. We’re going,” he said, there in front of all and sundry, but damn it. Rodimus didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t going to hide it, not anymore, not this precious thing.  
  
He’d come too close to dying yet again.  
  
Starscream’s energy field spiked with shock. He let himself be pulled without so much as a sharp retort or a scathing rebuttal. He didn’t even resist. His compliance wouldn’t last forever, but Rodimus hoped they’d be ensconced in a berth before Starscream thought to feel outraged.  
  
“I missed you,” Rodimus said, to sweeten the pot as they made their escape from the conference room, leaving a startled silence behind them. One that rather quickly exploded into chatter. He didn’t care about whatever gossip he’d started.  
  
He’d grown to learn the things that mattered.  
  
Starscream’s fingers squeezed around his. “T-That’s no excuse to be rude,” he said, but his chastisement fell flat, whilst his field rose up, fuzzy and heated.  
  
“Since when have you cared about societal politeness?” Rodimus retorted with a roll of his optics. He tightened his grip on Starscream’s hand, gaze swinging left and right. Surely there was somewhere around here he could get some privacy.  
  
“Since I’ve become the leader of Cybertron and thousands of optics watch my every move.” Starscream huffed and abruptly stopped cooperating.  
  
Rodimus jerked to a halt and whirled back toward Starscream. “You can’t seriously tell me you want to go back in there and spend the rest of the night debating.” His spark squeezed into a tight ball of worry.  
  
Had he misjudged? Had he been the only one longing?  
  
“Of course I don’t.” Starscream spun on a heelstrut, tugged Rodimus along behind him, and slammed his hand on a nearby panel, causing the door whoosh open. “You wanted privacy, didn’t you?”  
  
Rodimus’ spark strobed an excited beat. “And here I thought you weren’t bothered by our time apart.” Sometimes, Starscream was so hard to fragging read.  
  
Starscream snorted. “Don’t be stupid.” He tugged Rodimus into the room and the door slid shut behind them, locking with a cheerful series of triple beats.  
  
Rodimus glanced around. It was another conference room, though much smaller than the one they’d been in before. It was sparsely furnished, and the wall of windows on the far end were half-dimmed.  
  
He supposed it was as private as they could get so quickly.  
  
Starscream still held his hand. Rodimus felt the warmth of it. He returned his gaze to Starscream, his spark again doing that silly little flip. Much had changed since the last time Rodimus had been here, been home.  
  
Starscream had re-framed again. He was taller now. Heavier. Built to take more damage. Given what rumors Rodimus had heard of the goings-on around Cybertron and the recently annexed Earth and all the colonies, he wasn’t surprised.  
  
He was still handsome and there was no mistaking the curve of his lips. Rodimus longed to touch him, to reach across the mere feet that separated them. Starscream’s field reached for Rodimus, tentative however it might be, and that, too, was unmistakable.  
  
They were still holding hands.  
  
“I did miss you,” Starscream finally murmured, and only then did Rodimus realize Starscream had been staring at him in much the same way Rodimus had been drinking in the sight of his long-distance lover.  
  
His spark throbbed hopefully.  
  
“But we _are_ going to talk about what you just did,” Starscream said firmly. There was command in his voice now. Command that hadn’t been as confident before.  
  
Rodimus tugged on Starscream’s hand, urging the Seeker closer to him. “Yell at me later,” he murmured as he closed the distance between them. He let go of Starscream’s hand, only so he could cradle Starscream’s head with his palms. “It’s been a year.”  
  
Crimson optics softened at him. “I know.”  
  
Rodimus pulled their mouths together, all but sighing with relief into the kiss. This was what he had been missing, this right here, the taste of Starscream on his lips and against his field. And while it started out soft and sweet, and he’d had full intentions of keeping the kiss as such, hunger took over.  
  
Starscream’s hands clutched at his hips, tightening. He stepped forward, into and against Rodimus, their frames colliding. They stumbled backward, Rodimus nearly tripping over his own feet, but he’d be damned if he loosed his grip on Starscream. If he ended the heated kiss, their glossa tangling and their denta making awkward clicks.  
  
He’d almost forgotten it felt like this, hot and consuming, making his processor spin and his array surge to life. Rodimus moaned, and stumbled again, feeling dizzy and full of need. Starscream stepped forward, pushing him back, and his spoiler hit the wall behind him, harsh with a flash of pain that was quickly forgotten.  
  
Starscream kissed him harder, his denta nipping at Rodimus’ lips. There was urgency in the kiss now, a desperation he hadn’t been willing to show before.  
  
Rodimus’ knees wobbled. He sank harder against the wall, and Starscream seemed to take that as some kind of cue, because he slid his hands to Rodimus’ aft and lifted him up, pinning him against the wall. Rodimus wrapped his legs around Starscream’s waist, thighs pressing in on his hips, and he ground down, scraping his hot panel against Starscream’s. Relief shuddered through him as he realized Starscream was just as aroused, only he hid it better.  
  
Words, Rodimus realized. Perhaps there should be words.  
  
“Nice frame,” Rodimus said against Starscream’s mouth, their armor skidding together, his lighter paneling giving way to the heavier military-grade Starscream now carried. He draped his arms over Starscream’s shoulders as Starscream’s heat bore over him, wrapping him up, pulsing the sensation of _home_ as surely as Starscream’s embrace did.  
  
Starscream’s mouth wandered to his jaw, nipping over the sensitive dermal mesh. “Could say the same for you.”  
  
Rodimus arched his back, baring his intake to Starscream, and the Seeker took him up on the offer. “I’m in mourning,” he explained. He knew the blue and purple was a big change.  
  
A relief, then, that Starscream didn’t seem to abhor it. It was something else that would require a lengthy explanation, words Rodimus didn’t want to spare right now. Not when he had Starscream at his fingertips and near his lips.  
  
Starscream’s hands tightened their grip. He pulled back, expression confused and worried. “What?”  
  
“Later.” Rodimus shook his head, his spark squeezing. He didn’t want to bring that darkness in right now. “Right now, I need you. _Please_.” He rolled his hips to emphasize, aware that he was leaking, dripping onto Starscream’s pelvic armor.  
  
“There’s no need to beg.” Starscream brushed his lips over Rodimus’, his ex-vents tickling warmly into Rodimus’ seams. “Open for me, dearspark.”  
  
The affectionate term wrapped around Rodimus’ spark. He moaned as his panels slid aside, his spikehead grinding on Starscream’s abdomen as his valve dripped steadily. His calipers rippled, desperate for something to fill him. He rolled his hips, felt his swollen anterior node catch on one of Starscream’s armor ridges, and shuddered as pleasure spiked through his array like fireworks.  
  
He would have begged again, if not for Starscream choosing that moment to bare his own equipment, and filling Rodimus between one sparkbeat and the next. He moaned, backstrut arching, his field reaching out and grabbing hold of Starscream’s.  
  
Their mouths clashed together, a year’s worth of need giving way to the frantic push-pull of their frames. Charge sprang between their nodes as Starscream ground deep into him, his grip on Rodimus’ hips hard enough to dent. Rodimus relished it, the pressure of Starscream’s hands. It grounded him, reminded him where he was and who he was with.  
  
His field tangled with Starscream’s, firmly meshing the disparate strands together, until he swore he could feel Starscream’s sparkbeat as well. Starscream filled him perfectly, node to node, like no one else Rodimus let share his berth.  
  
Overload swept him up far too quickly, and Rodimus trembled in Starscream’s grip, trapped between the Seeker and the wall. He clamped down tight, riding Starscream’s spike, ex-venting bursts of heat.  
  
Starscream, however, held back, giving Rodimus only a few cycles of ventilation before he started to thrust in earnest once more. He pushed deep, rode Rodimus’ ceiling node, effortlessly building him back to full charge. His lips tracked wet, nipping paths over Rodimus’ chin, his jaw, into the vulnerability of his intake, and every brush of them sent zaps of need up Rodimus’ backstrut.  
  
Their chestplates pressed together, metal on metal, the glass of Starscream’s cockpit grinding against Rodimus’ Auto-brand. He swore he could feel the whirl and pulse of Starscream’s spark even over the frantic pounding of his own.  
  
He wondered if this time Starscream would let him see it.  
  
And then he was snatched by overload again, the pleasure leaving him gasping, clinging to Starscream, thighs trembling where they gripped Starscream’s hips, and his engine roaring. He bucked up against Starscream, and moaned when he felt the hot splash of Starscream’s transfluid deep within him, Starscream’s harsh ex-vents against his intake, and denta scraping ever so cautiously. His field rippled and tugged, twining deeply around Rodimus’ as though trying to claim him.  
  
Starscream pressed his forehead to Rodimus’, his ex-vents ghosting over Rodimus’ lips. His grip on Rodimus’ hips lingered, his spike still pressed deep, though he was gradually depressurizing. Rodimus tightened his thighs, his ankles pressing in on Starscream’s legs.  
  
He didn’t want Starscream to put him down anymore than Starscream seemed to want to let him go. So it worked out.  
  
Crimson optics were shuttered. Starscream’s ventilations were labored, uneven, but he cycled several of them before he finally spoke, his field shivering before it firmed.  
  
“When we got that transmission...” he started, but trailed off, and Rodimus heard the strain in his voice.  
  
He stroked the back of Starscream’s head. “It’s a long story.”  
  
“I’m sure it is.” Starscream unshuttered his optics and lifted his head. “I thought you were dead.”  
  
Rodimus managed a smile, though it was a pale shade of his usual confidence. “Oh ye of little faith.” He didn’t want to admit how shaken that whole encounter still left him. To see the fear in Starscream’s optics as well only reminded him all over again of how he’d felt, there on the brink.  
  
“Don’t be so flippant!” Starscream snapped, his optics flashing as his field writhed with emotion. “For Primus’ sake, Rodimus! Don’t--” He cut himself off again and his grip tightened, enough to fully realize the hand-shaped dents in Rodimus’ hips. “You will tell me everything.”  
  
“Yeah. I will.” Rodimus tilted forward apologetically, brushing their noses together. “And sorry. I just…. For a bit there, I thought I was dead, too.”  
  
Starscream’s hold gentled, his field easing out of the tight clamp, into a careful stroke around the radial edges of Rodimus’. “We will talk,” he murmured, his lips brushing over Rodimus’ cheek and the curve of his jaw.  
  
“And get to a berth eventually, too.” Rodimus’ thighs pressed in, his calipers rippling around Starscream’s spike, already firming once more within him.  
  
Starscream chuckled. “Yes, that too.” He pressed their foreheads together once more. “I missed you.”  
  
Rodimus’ spark throbbed. He thought he ought to say something, but he opted for a kiss instead, pressing his lips firmly to Starscream’s, and claiming the Seeker’s mouth. What good were words anyway, when actions suited just fine? When actions spoke everything he wanted to say.  
  
He’d rather this, he thought, and tightened his embrace on Starscream, as he let the pleasure sweep him away.  
  


***

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback, as always, is very welcome and appreciated!


End file.
